There's a Hole in The World Like a Great Black Pit
by Velocity Challenged Terrapin
Summary: A young artist in Gotham falls victim to an unforgettable crime- for her at least. She seeks the help of the police, but will they be able to help her? Will they even consider taking on such a common crime in Gotham? Mature content and language(It's Gotham- the hell do you expect?)
1. Chapter 1

I breathed in the sweet smell of flowers and grass. A cool breeze swept through my hair. It was a perfect day to go to the park. My paintbrush slid across the canvas smoothly. I was a self employed artist with not so ambitious dreams, low maintenance, and an open mind in the big city of Gotham.

"Wow!" a little girl murmured in amazement as she passed by, unlatching herself from her mother's hand. I smiled over the canvas at her. "How do you get to painting that well?" she asked, sitting next to me. Her mother stuffed her hands in her pockets and admired the painting.

"It all starts with good drawing. If you practice as much as possible and a little bit more, you can accomplish a lot." I replied. She nodded and followed after her mother down the paved walkway. I set my brush in the tin can of water and set my painting aside to dry. Another breeze passed by, blowing leaves across the ground. I knelt down and picked up one of the vibrant orange leafs. I placed the leaf in the newest page of my journal next to polaroid of the scene I'd been painting. This was a sort of habit or tradition. For all my paintings I would put something from its location in the journal next to a picture.

I sighed and put my things away, shouldering my backpack and carrying the painting with care. Though the park was a nice place to paint, I didn't like staying there alone for too long, it made me anxious. You see, Gotham isn't the safest city in the world. Of course, it can't be worse than Detroit- usually. Some of the crazies who run around Gotham can be unbelievable.

* * *

I walked quickly up the stairs of the apartment building, entering my apartment and locking the door. I was lucky enough to get a place in one of the nicer parts of the city, but you know, we still get the usual murders or turf wars every now and then.

Sighing, I placed my painting on the empty stand and plopped on the small sofa. Maybe I could spend the rest of my life inside, ordering pizza and selling my paintings online. I have an elliptical, so there really was no need to go outside... Other than the fact that I was required to be at showings of my art and Gotham, no matter how dangerous, has amazing and inspirational sights. I mumbled incoherently and looked at my watch... which was not there.

* * *

I stepped briskly around the corner, nervously eyeing the dark alleyways. I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched and was regretting going back to the park. What happened was that I had forgotten my watch on the bench. Luckily, no one had picked it up. You know, it would've been easier just to buy another watch! The sound of a second set of footsteps echoed behind me. I clenched my hands inside of my pockets. Damn, the one time I don't bring my pepper spray. Someone pulled me to the side into one of the alleys. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but the assailant covered it with their hand. They dragged me further into the alley. I thrashed around, trying to kick at my attacker. This couldn't be happening! I bit down on the hand, earning a growl from its' owner.

"Let go of me!" I screeched. I watched with teary eyes as the hand returned to my mouth and bystanders took no notice to my dilemma. 'Why won't anyone help me?' I thought, tears running down my cheeks.


	2. And It's Filled with People

I stumbled down the side walk, pulling my tattered sleeve onto my shoulder. People stared at me as they passed by, some in worry and others in disgust or horror. I spotted the police station and made my way to the building blearily. I slammed the door open. The bustle and noise of the station slowly grew quieter as everyone turned to see what new lunatic had burst through the entrance now.

"P-please, someone's got t-to help me." I cried, hugging my arms to myself. A man cautiously walked over to me.

"Are you alright, ma'am? What happened?" he hesitantly placed a hand on my shoulder. I began to tell him what had happened, but had to stop when the memory cause large waves of sobbing to overtake me. "Just calm down, miss. Everything'll be fine. Harvey, get her a seat please." he looked from me to another cop. The other man nodded and briskly pulled a chair up. The one with his hand on my shoulder coaxed me to the chair and I lowered myself onto it. As the two men sat down in front of me, the other people continued with their duties. ' _Just like ev_ _eryone else._ ' I thought bitterly.

"We can't help you unless you tell us what happened, ma'am." the youngest of the two policemen said.

"Dammit, Gordon, it's kind of obvious, isn't it?" Harvey grumbled. Gordon shot him a look, but turned back to me. I breathed in and clasped my hands together tightly.

"A man jumped me while I was w-walking home. H-he dragged me into an alley way a-and..." I stifled a sob. "He forcibly had sex with me." I breathed out, frantically wiping at my eyes. The tears wouldn't stop. Gordon looked to Harvey, frowning. Harvey nodded, getting up and leaving.

"We're going to have a sketch artist come in- do you know what the assailant looked like?" Gordon asked. I nodded, still wiping my eyes. Another man came up, holding a blanket and a mug. He was tall and scrawny, not unlike the 'beanpoles' kids would make fun of in grade school. He stood at the desk besides Gordon, bouncing on the balls of his feet and glancing around awkwardly. Gordon looked up at him, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Ed?" he sighed.

"Oh, uh. I saw her-er- you come in," Ed mumbled, turning to me. "I thought you might want something to calm your nerves. Do you like tea?" he stuttered. I sniffled, staring at Ed in confusion. I gave a slow, broken smile.

"Yes, I love tea." I mumbled, encouragingly. Ed was fidgeting slightly, it was worrying. He brightened at my reply and handed me the mug.

"That's great. Did you know, that tea has been scientifically proven to make people calmer? The findings of Dr Malcolm Cross reveal that even a single cup of tea can significantly reduce anxiety levels after suffering a stressful experience." he recited. I took a long draft of the steaming drink. When I set the half empty cup down he handed me the blanket. "Here. Usually they give victims of trauma blankets to help sedate their shock it's-"

"Thank you Ed." Gordon said in annoyance, looking at Ed as though to say 'Shut up and leave.'

"Oh, okay. I'll get back to the lab, then. Goodbye." Ed's smile faltered slightly, but he turned around and walked away. I frowned down at the blanket in my lap, feeling the fabric between my index finger and my thumb. It was soft. As I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, Harvey returned with a man carrying a notepad.

"Okay, just describe the guy to our friend here and we might be able to help." Harvey sat down with a grunting sigh. I shuffled in my chair to face the sketch artist. He had the notepad on the table, his pencil ready to begin.

"He had a broad chin and a cupid's bow. The philtrum of his nose was slightly upturned- so was the tip of his nose. The bridge was crooked like it had been broken and set incorrectly, he had hooded brown eyes and brown hair..." I instructed, recalling the man's face grudgingly. I watched the artist draw everything I told him, but horridly. It was as if he had no idea what I was trying to convey to him. I timidly reached for the pencil.

"Uh... Can I just... have this for a sec?" I mumbled, lifting the notepad and taking the pencil. I tore the current picture out, crumbling it and tossing it into the trashcan next to the desk. Gordon and Harvey made noises of protest. I quickly made an outline of the attacker's face and sketched in the details I remembered as well as the hairstyle he'd been wearing at the moment. When I had finished, I placed the paper on the desk and handed the notepad and pencil back to their owner. Gordon turned the paper around to look at it. Harvey raised his eyebrows down at the picture and took a drink from a metal canteen.

"Is this the man who assaulted you?" Gordon finally asked, peering up at me. I nodded.

"How in the hell did you do that?" Harvey chuckled.

"I'm a self employed artist. No offense, but your friend doesn't even know the difference between almond shaped and upturned eyes." I explained. Harvey gave a breathy laugh at that.

"Well, we'll make copies of this and put them on every one of our officers' desks." Gordon stood, taking the portrait. He returned with a stack of papers that he divided between Harvey and himself. Gordon cleared his throat loudly and faced the crowd in the lower station. "You will be receiving one of these papers from officer Bullock. The man shown is the culprit of a rape crime and I want all of you to keep an eye out for him."

"Not only will you be keeping an eye out for him, but if you even _think_ you see him, apprehend him and bring him here. I don't care if you're on coffee break, at dinner, off the clock, whatever! We can not be allowed to let scum like this run around Gotham. Remember, all crimes have consequences." a bald man stepped forward beside Gordon, speaking with authority. As everyone returned to their duties again, he turned around to face me. "Captain Nathaniel Barnes." he offered his hand. I shook it hesitantly.

"Marina Uccello." I stated my named.


End file.
